Quiet Heroes
by Flatkatsi
Summary: An unusual request for help has General O’Neill finding out some very unexpected information. A Stargate Hogan's Heroes crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Although Percy and Elsie Curtis were first introduced in my stories 'Breakfast Meeting' and 'Light Lunch' it is not essential to read those stories first. Many thanks to Eleri and Patti for betaing and advice.

Quiet Heroes 

Elsie watched over her husband's shoulder as he turned the page of the photo album. It had been years since they had last had them out, but a spring cleaning of the bookshelf in the living room had proved them to be in serious need of dusting. Of course she had barely lifted the four albums down when Percy had taken them. She frowned at the dust now lightly coating the surface of her recently polished dining table.

"Have I mentioned this guy?"

Elsie leaned a little closer in, squinting at the small, square black and white photo. "I have no idea. Wait while I get my glasses."

By the time she had located her spectacle case – Percy had the bad habit of putting the newspaper on top of anything lying on the table after he finished reading it – he was huffing and puffing as if she had done something annoying instead of the other way around.

"Well, are you ready?"

She slipped her reading glasses from their case and put them on before pulling a chair up alongside him. There was no point in being uncomfortable. Speaking of which – "How about a cup of tea first?"

"Oh for goodness sake, you just had one a half hour ago!" He was getting all huffy again so she decided to humor him – yet again. If he got into one of his moods it would take him days to get out of it and they were expecting a visit from their son and his family on Saturday. Paul and his father had enough trouble getting along with all the head butting and stamping of feet they did without Percy being in a bad mood to start.

"If you don't want to look…"

There he went again. He had gotten more impatient as the years passed. She gave him a glare over the top of her glasses. "Of course I want to look. I wouldn't have gotten my glasses if I didn't, now would I?" She looked again at the photo he had first shown her. It was clearer now. There was Percy, looking very young and handsome, if a trifle thin, holding a broom handle in one hand and a trash can lid in the other, as if they were a sword and shield. Another equally young man was facing him with matching lid and broom handle. It would have looked like they were in the middle of a battle if it wasn't for the expression on their faces. Elsie peered more closely and smiled as she realized both men were in their pyjamas. Behind them was a Quonset hut, with a group of men standing near its open door, laughing as they watched.

"What on Earth were you doing?"

"That's Andrew. It was when we were forward deployed. I was stationed at an RAF base in England and that's the day before we shipped out. We'd been there for weeks and I struck up quite a friendship with Andrew, but I lost touch with him after that. I've always wondered what happened to him."

Elsie lifted the old album closer. The boy – because that's what they both looked like, boys barely young enough to shave – with Percy had light colored hair and a wide grin on his friendly face. "He looks nice. Was he in the Marine Corps?"

"Nope. He wanted to fly – Air Corps." His smile faltered. "Too many of them died on bombing missions over Germany. Far too many."

"Maybe he didn't. Plenty came back home as well. Why don't you see if you can find out for sure?"

"After all this time? How would I do that?"

She turned the album's pages, seeing the formal group photos of young men, all dressed up and neat in their uniforms, in ordered rows staring solemnly at the camera, and thought about how for many these were the last photos their mothers would have of them. Perhaps Andrew's family was out there somewhere with a similar photo lying forgotten in a dusty album?

"You should find out what happened to him." Elsie said it with conviction, sure that it was the right thing to do. And when Percy did find Andrew or his family, she would see they got a copy of this picture and could remember the man when he was young and carefree, before the war caught up with him.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"I don't know where to go next." Percy threw the letter he'd just received down and took off his glasses. "It's another dead end."

"Surely there's somewhere else?"

Shaking his head, Percy picked up his discarded fork. "I can't think where." He took a mouthful of salad and chewed. "It's li…"

"Don't talk with your mouth full!"

He chewed a couple more times, swallowed and began again. "It's like Andrew vanished off the face of the Earth. All I've found out is that he was shot down over Germany during a bombing raid and was a POW. I think he probably died in the camp."

"But wouldn't there be records if he died as a POW?" Elsie asked.

"I thought there would be, but I suppose I don't have enough information so…" Percy picked the letter up again, putting his glasses back on. With its official wording and impressive letterhead he had only given it a quick glance when he first opened it, but maybe there was something he'd missed. "This doesn't say Andrew died, just that there is no further information on him." He read further. "They moved the records in 1959 and it says some might have been lost – and in the 70's as well - and in 1995." He looked over the top of his spectacles at his wife. "That's a lot of moving. I can see how some records may have been lost."

"You should ask Paul."

"And why should I do that?"

"He could look it up on his computer – google it."

"I don't need my son's help. I don't have to rely on a computer for everything."

Pushing her chair back, Elsie began clearing their lunch dishes from the table. "Paul and Judy would be happy to help, you know."

"He's never shown any interest in things like this before, so why would he now? I asked if he wanted to look at my photos and he said they were boring."

"He was twelve!" The plates clattered together as Elsie virtually threw them onto the kitchen counter. "Of course he thought they were boring. And you never asked him to look at them again.. He was saying just the other week how he wanted to know more about our family history. I think now he's got children of his own he understands the importance of knowing where you come from."

"Yes, well, it's about time." Percy stood, bringing the cups and saucers across so that Elsie could add them to the washing-up. She didn't say anything and he could see her lips were held in a thin line. "How about I keep the albums out and see if Paul wants to look at them with me on Saturday?"

Elsie's frown cleared and although she didn't look up from scrubbing the plates, he could see she was cheering up and her next words confirmed it. "That would be lovely, dear. I'm sure he'll enjoy looking at them."

"But I'll see if I can find out more about Andrew on my own. I don't need a computer. We never had computers before…"

"Yes, dear, and we didn't have microwaves before either, but it doesn't stop you using one to heat your leftovers."

Feeling very tempted to mention cell phones and Elsie's contention that they zapped your brains, Percy just grunted.

Then he had a sudden and very inspired idea.

"Paul Davis!"

"Who?"

"Colonel Davis. Remember I told you the colonel who took me to see General O'Neill in the hospital was called Paul as well. Paul Davis." He turned and went into their bedroom and began rifling through his bedside drawer. "I'm sure I had his card somewhere. Have you seen it?"

"If you kept your things tidy…" Elsie had followed him from the kitchen, wiping her wet hands on her apron. She was now sitting on the edge of their bed, slipping off her shoes.

"Yes, yes – oh." He pulled the business card from between the mess of old receipts and correspondence. "Here it is. I'll call and ask if he can help me find Andrew."

"He's an important man at the Pentagon. Don't be too disappointed if he tells you he can't do anything. I'm sure he's very busy."

Percy shook his head. "You didn't meet him. He was very nice. He said if I ever needed anything to just call, so now I'm calling."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"That's it, isn't it, Colonel?" Major General Jack O'Neill leaned back in his chair and began to relax as he waited for Colonel Davis to answer. It was nearing the end of what had seemed to be a very long week and he was looking forward to getting home and taking a long hot bath then vegging out with a glass of beer and a good book. Sometimes the simple pleasures in life were the best. He could barely repress a sigh when Paul hesitated in the act of standing. "What? Is there something else?"

"Well, sir, I wasn't going to mention it, but I had a call from Mr. Curtis yesterday."

"Curtis? Do I know him?"

Paul nodded. "He's the ex-marine who helped when you were shot last year."

"Ah, yes, I remember. He visited me in hospital didn't he?" Jack thought for a moment then continued, "It's a bit hazy."

Actually it was a little embarrassing. Mr. Curtis' visit had been early in his hospital stay and all he could really remember was that he fell asleep and didn't even notice when the man left. Jack had meant to get in touch with him when he recovered, but things conspired to push it from his mind. It seemed as if the past year had lurched from one crisis to another with no time to breathe in between.

"What did he want?"

"It was a rather unusual request, General. He's looking for information on an old friend from the war."

"And?" Jack gestured to a chair. "Sit down again and tell me about it. I take it you've had some trouble or you wouldn't have mentioned it to me.'

"Thank you, sir." Paul put the folder he was carrying on Jack's desk and took the offered seat. "It's actually a little odd. On the surface it would be an easy task to find Mr. Curtis' friend. He met the man while they were both in England in 1942, just before Mr. Curtis was shipped out. Apparently his friend was a bombardier in the Army Air Corps. He was shot down and imprisoned in Germany. Mr. Curtis has all the information that would normally be required, including his state of origin, but when he hit a dead end he asked me for help – and that's where it gets strange.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, the records are classified."

"What?" Jack sat forward, leaning his elbows on the desk. "Classified?"

"Yes sir, that's why I mentioned it to you. I wasn't sure what to tell Mr. Curtis. I was wondering if you could look over what I've found and see what you think?"

Jack straightened in his seat, suddenly interested in the whole business. This was intriguing, plus it was the perfect opportunity to make contact with Percy Curtis again, and this time he would thank him properly for helping to save Jack's life.

"Is that the information?" He pointed to the folder now sitting on the edge of his desk and at the colonel's nod picked it up. "Leave it with me. I'll go through it now and we'll discuss it in the morning."

"Thank you, sir." Paul stood. "Was there anything else?"

"No, that will be all. Have a good evening, Colonel."

Jack was already reading the first page of the file when Colonel Davis closed his office door. On the face of it everything seemed straightforward. He scanned the personal information Paul had located, reading the details of the young man who grew up in Indiana before the war. It was when he saw the man's home town that he began to really sit up and take notice. There was something familiar about it. Then it hit him. He turned the pages more rapidly, his eyes darting backward and forward. What he found was totally unexpected.

Jack glanced at his watch before reaching for the phone and calling a number he knew very well.

"Hi Carter, glad I caught you. Tell me something, didn't your dad's family come from Muncie, Indiana?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Quiet Heroes – Part 2

* * *

"This is truly amazing, sir. I had no idea." Colonel Carter's words faded out and she sat, staring at the file in her hands.

"Do you think your father knew?" Jack asked.

Carter shook her head. "I doubt it, but I can't be sure. He certainly never mentioned it. I find it really hard to believe – Uncle Andrew…" In all the years he'd known her Jack didn't think he had ever seen the colonel so at a loss for words. His news had stunned her.

And, boy was he enjoying himself.

Smiling, he leaned forward and tapped the open folder with his finger. "Your great uncle Andrew was a bit of a dark horse, eh, Carter? How well did you know him?"

"Oh, well enough, sir." Carter looked up, her eyes meeting his, and she gave him an answering smile. "He was my favorite relative – outside of mom, dad and Mark of course. I loved visiting him when we had vacations in Indiana. He had this big shed out the back of his house and the two of us used to do all kinds of experiments in there." She grinned, clearly remembering. "We blew a lot of stuff up."

"Blew stuff up? I bet your Mom loved that!"

To Jack's surprise, the colonel giggled, her hand flying to cover her mouth. "Uncle Andrew always waited until mom and dad had gone into town to do shopping or something and his wife, my Aunt Sally, wasn't around. All Mark wanted to do was play football with the other boys in the neighborhood, so he was usually off somewhere, and that's when Uncle Andrew and I did our experiments. He was a pharmacist so he had lots of different sorts of chemicals and knew what to mix to make the most wonderful explosions. I remember one when he had an old car he wanted to get rid of. The bang was so loud my grandparents heard it in their house way across the fields and bits of car went flying everywhere. Uncle Andrew just laughed and tried to look innocent when they came to see what was happening." She gave another laugh, and shook her head again. "That's why I find it so hard to believe what I'm reading here. Uncle Andrew was always laughing and joking. He never had a bad word to say about anyone. Sometimes my grandfather would get so annoyed with him, saying he never took anything seriously, and his brother would just keep laughing. He had this great smile – it used to light up his whole face."

"How old were you when he died?"

"Thirteen." There was a pause and the smile vanished. "It was a year or so before mom died." She looked down at her hands, her voice lowering. "It was lymphoma – same as dad had. He was only in his mid-60's."

Jack stood and moved around to the front of his desk. The colonel's face was expressionless now, but he could see moisture glistening in the corner of her eyes.

"Hell, Carter, I'm sorry. I didn't want to upset you." Putting a hand on her shoulder, he squeezed it in an awkward attempt at comfort.

She reached up with her other hand and gave his an answering squeeze. "Thanks, sir. I'm not really upset – really – it's just that I'm suddenly remembering all the wonderful times I had with my great uncle and I didn't realize how much I missed him." She swallowed. "And how much I miss my dad."

"I know." He didn't say anything else, just stood there for a few moments while she leaned her head against him, then she straightened and pulled away, giving her face a quick rub with her hand.

"I have a lot of good memories of Uncle Andrew – and a lot to thank him for. He's the one who sparked my interest in science. Without him I doubt if I'd be where I am now." She sniffed and pulled a tissue from her pocket, wiping her nose then slipping it back into her pocket again.

"Then we've got a lot to thank your Uncle Andrew for too." Jack moved a few steps across his office and poured two coffees from the machine on the table at the side of the room. "We probably wouldn't have the stargate."

Carter gave a nod of thanks and took the cup he handed her. "When I think about it, it really isn't that strange – what he did in the war I mean. He was blowing things up then as well. I suppose it's the fact that he was part of a secret operation." She took a sip and continued. "And that together with the rest of his team he obviously killed a lot of Germans. I knew he flew bombing missions over occupied territory, but this is so much more personal somehow. It doesn't seem like my Uncle Andrew at all."

"I bet if you told Mark some of the things we've done, he'd find it hard to believe as well. No one likes to think someone they love is capable of killing like that." Jack grimaced and took a long sip from his own cup, thinking that no one had ever been under any illusions as to what he did for a living. Unlike Carter's Uncle Andrew and others like Percy Curtis he hadn't stopped killing at the end of a war. It had become a part of life. It had taken more years than he cared to remember before that part of his career was over and even now he was still responsible for ordering others to do the killing.

Shaking himself from his morbid thoughts, Jack broke the silence that had fallen over the room. "You know, I'm pretty sure I met your uncle's old commander back in the 70's. A retired general spoke to my class at the Academy – Major General Hogan. It was one of those lessons you remember years later, not so much for what he said but for how much he obviously meant every word. About looking below surface appearances and not making assumptions about people. He said that just because you're an officer doesn't make you better than anyone else – that you had to earn your men's respect. It was the first time I'd heard that said and really believed the person saying it truly meant it."

"This certainly is a coincidence, isn't it, sir – Mr. Curtis coming to you to find Andrew Carter and you realizing who he was. And you meeting General Hogan. It's pretty amazing."

"Not as amazing as blowing up a sun, Carter," Jack answered. "Imagine what your uncle would have thought of that!"

She grinned, all traces of tears now gone. "He would have loved it. To think he spent the war blowing up trains and bridges. He didn't talk much about that time, but he mentioned a few names – friends he made in the camp – and he gave Mark stamps off letters he got from all over the place for his collection. There were lots of French and English ones, and even some West German stamps. I always had the impression that he hadn't had much to do while he was a prisoner and that it was pretty boring." Laughing, she shifted in her chair, turning the pages of the file. "It certainly wasn't boring, was it, sir – not from the details I'm reading here."

"Nope, boring it wasn't. Have you read the report about the time your uncle impersonated Hitler?" Jack couldn't help it, he started laughing. "How they got away with some of the things they did! And Hogan was flying backward and forward to England – while he was a prisoner! It's unbelievable, just unbelievable that all this was going on right under the Nazis' noses and they never worked it out. Sheer genius!"

"It's a pity they didn't get the recognition they deserved and that they couldn't even tell their families." Carter shook her head ruefully. "It's almost a family tradition now – having to keep secrets. First Uncle Andrew, then me with the Stargate Program and dad becoming a Tok'ra. If Mr. Curtis hadn't tried to find him I would have never known my uncle was a saboteur behind enemy lines for most of the war. That he wasn't just a quiet chemist from Muncie Indiana and that he was a real hero."

Jack nodded. "It doesn't seen fair somehow, does it. We can't even tell Percy Curtis unfortunately – not the full story at least. The whole Stalag 13 operation is still classified top secret. But at least we can let him know his friend survived the war. How about I give him a call now and arrange it?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Are you sure I look all right, Percy? I'm not sure about this dress. Maybe I should change into my blue skirt. Although it would probably clash with General O'Neill's uniform, so that's not a good idea. Oh dear – what about…"

"Your dress is fine, dear." Percy gave his wife an annoyed glance. He was nervous enough without her twittering on about her clothes. Clashing with General O'Neill's uniform indeed! He paused and gave her a closer look. Was that a smile he caught flittering across her lips? "You aren't really worried about your dress, are you?" He couldn't help smiling when she laughed back at him and gave him a light slap over the head.

"I was wondering if you were listening at all. Now get up off your behind and help me put the food on the table."

Getting to his feet with a grunt, Percy set off obediently in the direction of the kitchen, hobbling a little. His rheumatism often left his legs stiff and painful, especially now the weather was getting cooler, and he was actually grateful to be moving, even though he'd never admit it to Elsie. When he saw what was on the kitchen bench he stopped and stared at the array of cakes and cookies.

"You've got enough food here to feed an army!"

"Oh stop it. You know I enjoy baking and I don't get much chance to do it these days with us both watching our cholesterol. What General O'Neill and the others don't eat will keep until Paul and Judy and the children are here tomorrow. Now get it on the table, they'll be here soon."

Much to Elsie's obvious relief everything was on the table and waiting before their guests arrived. They had only been sitting down for about ten minutes, with Percy trying but not succeeding to read the newspaper, when there was a knock on the door.

"They're here. Hurry up and let them in." Elsie stood, brushing down her dress and patting at her hair. She looked fine just how she was, but Percy knew better than to make the comment. Instead he pushed himself up and walked up the short hall to the door.

Colonel Davis was waiting there, looking very official in his neat blue uniform, but nowhere near as impressive as the man just getting out of the black government sedan. It took a second for Percy to recognize the general as the person he had last seen so deathly ill in hospital. He looked the picture of health, standing tall and smiling slightly as he spoke to his driver. Another figure exited the car and stood to one side – a blonde haired woman with the silver oak leaves of a lieutenant colonel shining on her shoulders.

"Please, come in out of the cold." Gesturing them in, Percy held the door open while the colonel stepped aside to allow his superior to enter first, followed closely by the female officer.

When they were all inside and the door was closed General O'Neill moved forward and took Percy's hand, shaking it firmly.

"I'm sorry I haven't thanked you properly before, Mr. Curtis. I'm glad I have this opportunity to do something for you in return for what you did for me – not that it's nearly enough of course."

"I didn't do anything much, sir, no more than anyone else would have done in the same circumstances." Percy replied with an embarrassed shrug of his shoulders. "It's good to see you looking so well."

"A bit of an improvement on the last time, isn't it?" General O'Neill was smiling now, a wide smile that lit his face and made him look ten years younger.

He felt a nudge in his back and remembered his manners. "This is my wife Elsie, General. Elsie, this is General O'Neill and Colonel Davis," he hesitated, stumbling over his next words. "But I'm afraid I don't know…"

"Oh, I'm sorry." For some reason General O'Neill's smile had grown even wider. "This is Colonel Samantha Carter."

Elsie took over. "Pleased to meet you. Do come in and sit down. Would you like tea or coffee?"

"Whichever is easier, thanks, Mrs. Curtis." The general took a seat at the table, an expression of delight on his face. "Cake!"

From the laughs the comment got from Colonels Davis and Carter, Percy assumed the general was more than fond of cake. The laughter broke the ice and awkwardness turned to easy conversation while they drank the coffee Elsie provided. His wife positively glowed with the praise General O'Neill heaped on her as he steadily ate his way through the cakes and cookies.

After they had finished their first cup of coffee and Elsie had put the kettle on to make herself another cup of tea, General O'Neill gestured to Colonel Davis. Paul lifted the briefcase he carried onto his knee and began to open it.

"Put it on the table, dear, it'll be much easier for you." A blush spread over Elsie's face. "Oh sorry, Colonel Davis. It's just that you remind me of our son Paul."

The colonel smiled back at her as he did as she suggested. "That's quite all right, ma'am. I take it as a compliment." He pulled a file from the bag and handed it to the general.

"Thanks, Davis." After wiping his hands on a napkin, the general took the file and opened it. "Now, you asked Colonel Davis to try and locate an old friend of yours from the war named Andrew Carter. Colonel Davis mentioned it to me and-"

"I didn't expect him to bother you with it, General," Percy interrupted. "You must have far more important things to do than this." Then he realized what he had said and hastily turned to Paul Davis. "Not that I don't think you have important things to do too, Colonel."

General O'Neill held up his hand to stop him. "Whoa – no need to apologize. You're right, Paul basically just sits around all day and twiddles his thumbs…"

"Sir." The warning tone was unmistakable and Percy glanced rapidly from the general to Colonel Carter, worried that she would get into trouble for what was obviously a reprimand. Instead, the general just laughed. "Okay, Carter, I'll be good."

Colonel Davis didn't appear to be at all insulted by the general's comments either and Percy wondered at the easy camaraderie he sensed between the three officers. He'd expected a major general to be far more – well – officious.

"Sir, maybe if you just explain…" Again Colonel Carter seemed to be subtly reining the general in.

"Sure." O'Neill put down the fork he had raised, eying the piece of chocolate cake on its end with obvious regret. "Anyway, I was looking over the information you gave Davis and realized that I knew someone named Carter who came from the same town your Carter hailed from." He raised the fork again. "And here we are. Carter, you want to take it from here?"

"Thanks, sir." The colonel took over with a smile. "Mr. Curtis, Andrew Carter was my great uncle. My grandfather was his older brother."

"Oh my goodness!" Elsie put down her tea, the cup clinking loudly on its saucer.

"I can't believe it. You're related to Andrew. Are you sure?" Percy shook his head at his own comment. "Of course you're sure. What happened to him? Did he make it home?" Suddenly Andrew's fate seemed even more important than before. It was as if the young man he had only met for such a brief time had become part of his own family.

"Yes, he did. He was released from the prisoner of war camp a few weeks before the end of the war, went home to Muncie and married his high school sweetheart." Colonel Carter took a photo from her wallet and handed it to Percy. "That's him there, with me and my brother Mark outside Uncle Andrew's house. He was a wonderful man."

Percy peered at the picture but he couldn't see the details until he put his glasses on, then he smiled. Andrew didn't look that much different than when he knew him. He was standing between the two children, his arms on their shoulders. He looked happy, as if he was having a great time, and Percy smiled as well. You couldn't help but smile when Andrew was near – his presence just seemed to cheer everything up, even in a photograph.

And although he knew from the way she spoke, that Colonel Carter's great uncle, his friend Andrew, had passed on, Percy wasn't sad. It just seemed right somehow, sitting here with these Air Force officers he barely knew. He looked up to find Elsie watching him and he caught her eye, giving her a smile.

"Maybe Colonel Carter would like to see your photo albums, dear. He has some of your uncle, Colonel."

Instead of answering directly, Colonel Carter turned to her superior. "Do we have time, sir?"

He nodded. "Of course we do, and Carter's not the only one who'd like to see them, Mr. Curtis. Why don't you show them to all of us?"

Percy nodded, unable to speak and the next thing he knew General O'Neill was helping Elsie to carry the albums over to the table while the colonels cleared a space for them.

"I'll get myself another cup of tea. More coffee, anyone?"

And while Elsie pottered around in the kitchen, Percy found himself surrounded by blue uniforms as he turned the pages. The general was once again munching on cake and Paul Davis had taken his jacket off and hung it over the back of his chair. Colonel Carter leaned in as close as she could, her shoulder touching his as he pointed out her uncle.

There was time enough to find out what happened to Andrew Carter, why and how he had seemed to disappear, but not right now. Those questions could wait. For now Percy was content to be able to tell his great niece and her friends what sort of man he had been when they had both been young.

The End


End file.
